i think he's trying to make a basket of some sort

We talk a lot about Yuuri having to reconcile his idea of Viktor with the real Viktor–that is, Yuuri has this flawless, wonderful ideal of Viktor in his head which has to sort of be cut down to fit the person that Viktor really is. Which is a healthy part of their relationship, and which I completely agree is something Yuuri has to face at some point during that first summer.

But I think there’s also something to be said about Yuuri realizing that some of the horrible things he’s heard about Viktor through the skating community grapevine are not so true.

Yuuri, despite what he says, is much closer to is idol than most people ever get. If Viktor is a movie star, Yuuri is the secondary character–he’s there, and a lot of people definitely know he’s there, and he knows enough people who also know Viktor for the gossip mill to really get churnin sometimes.

I also think that at the back of every person who has ever had a celebrity crush’s mind is a little voice saying, “Never meet your heroes,” and Yuuri Katsuki is terrified of that little voice, and it contributes to the distance he keeps from Viktor–because at some point, that much distance from someone you’re facing off against in international competitions has got to be just a little bit purposeful.

So cue Viktor coming into his life all of a sudden one day, and all Yuuri can think about are the terrible awful no good very bad things people have told him about Viktor and the kind of person Viktor is.

“Fuck Viktor Nikiforov,” an older skater had told him after Skate America, six glasses into a box of wine and bitter as hell about missing the podium. “No, really, fuck him. The Russians are paying off the ISU to keep him at the top. He isn’t even that talented. I hear–I hear he doesn’t even train. I hear he just shows up and fucking does whatever and they give him gold because he’s Viktor Nikiforov.”

“I…don’t think…” Yuuri frowned at his own glass of wine. “I mean…that couldn’t be true.” He glances at Phichit next to him. “Could it?”

“Sour grapes,” Phichit advises, and Yuuri isn’t as familiar with English idioms at that point, so he thinks Phichit is talking about the wine.

Yuuri mostly forgets about it, but somewhere in the back of his mind–he can’t stop thinking about it. He watches and rewatches Viktor’s old programs and wonders to himself if the reason he thinks they’re so good is because he’s watching them through rose-tinted glasses.

Yuuri and Phichit are suffering through finals and trying to survive through twenty-hour days of nothing but studying and skating. They lay themselves on the bleachers one afternoon while they’re supposed to be doing warm ups.

“What if I just quit school and became and underwater basket weaver,” Yuuri mumbles directly into the metal seat of the bleacher. “That would be fine, right?”

“WWVND,” Phichit replies. “What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do.”

“You’re right,” Yuuri sighs.

“Viktor Nikiforov is dumber than a box of rocks,” says of the other members of the club as she skates by. “You know he never even finished high school? I mean, what counts as high school in a country like Russia. The guy probably thinks two plus two equals borscht.”

“That’s not…” Yuuri smushes his nose against the bleacher. “Hey, that’s not…”

“FUCK OFF OLIVIA,” Phichit shrieks across the rink, and Celestino definitely hears. They have to do twenty minutes of line drills. 

“What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do, right boys?” asks Olivia as she watches Yuuri try not to heave after Celestino finally releases them from their Sisyphean torture.

“I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Phichit says, and he sounds so deeply serious that Yuuri is sincerely worried.

Several weeks later, someone mentions Viktor within earshot of Phichit and he jokingly says, “Watch what you say, that’s Yuuri’s future husband you’re talking about,” and it sort of makes Yuuri want to hit him but mostly makes Yuuri blush.

“Really?” replies that someone. “I don’t know about that, Yuuri. I wouldn’t touch that guy with a thirty foot pole. He sleeps around. Probably has all kinds of nasty stuff going on down there.”

“Oh, whatever,” Phichit says, rolling his eyes. “Like you would know.”

Yuuri ducks his head back into his book and tries not to think about it.

These are the things that Yuuri holds in the back of his mind about Viktor, the worries that travel with him anywhere he has even the chance of encountering Viktor Nikiforov. 

‘Never meet your heroes’ becomes something of the unspoken mantra of Yuuri’s life. 

Then Viktor Nikiforov catapults himself straight into Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri learns a few things.

Viktor trains. Viktor trains hard. Viktor has neglected everything but training and skating and satisfying his own frantic need to be the best for twenty years. Viktor Nikiforov is a lonely, sad bookworm with one friend and a gaping, yearning need to be touched–and he did not get to be where he is without making sacrifices. 

Yuuri has never met anyone who made more sacrifices for this sport and this art than Viktor Nikiforov. It opens something up inside of him, throbbing and raw. It makes Yuuri want to take Viktor’s heart and shove it inside his own chest so that it never feels cold or lonely again. It makes him want to stand on the top of a tall building somewhere and scream fuck you to every person he’s encountered whose jealousy tried to convince him that this man was less than what he is.

And yes, Yuuri knows now that Viktor is forgetful and brutally honest and often doesn’t say the right thing at the right time.

He knows that Viktor is only ambidextrous in that he can use a fork with both hands and that it takes him twenty minutes in the morning to decide on a shirt to wear. He knows that Viktor Nikiforov is a blanket hog and that if Yuuri wants to wake up still covered in the morning, they have to have no less than three blankets on the bed at all times.

He knows that Viktor sometimes descends into these loops of manic energy where he wants to do everything and can’t sit still and in those moments, Yuuri wants to lock him in a room and leave him there until he starts making sense again.

He also knows that Viktor Nikiforov has the most genuinely beautiful soul that Yuuri has ever had the opportunity to touch. He knows that very few people in his life will ever love him like Viktor, and that he himself has never felt for anyone quite what he feels for this man. His man. 

He knows these things and he thinks that maybe Viktor is perfect after all, perfect in his imperfection. Every jagged edge of his fits into one of Yuuri’s, and every curve of Yuuri’s lovingly presses flush with Viktor’s until they fit together seamlessly, like a pair of puzzle pieces.

Yuuri is also still a very petty person on the inside, though–which is why he makes posts on Instagram that read things like Viktor received his sixth well-deserved Russian National gold today! Congratulations to my amazing fiance.

And also:

So proud of my husband for all of his hard work commentating at the #Olympics. Some people go to school for half their lives and aren’t half as articulate as my Vitya. #Proudhubby

After that last one, Phichit leaves a voicemail on Yuuri’s phone that is literally just two whole minutes of him laughing hysterically and then wheezing, “THE SALT!” before hanging up.

“Yuuri, why did Phichit just sent me…sixteen crying laughing emojis and a text that says ‘your husband I can’t,’ in all caps?”

“Because a lot of people tried telling me you weren’t perfect and I’m proving them wrong,” Yuuri replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“Oh,” Viktor says, and literally crawls on top of him.

Yuuri supposes that the moral of the story is that the heart wants what the heart wants, and you have to find perfection in the imperfections–Viktor is loud and ditzy and forgets the English word for tomato on an almost daily basis, but he’s Yuuri’s husband. And because he’s Yuuri’s husband, he’s perfect.

anonymous asked:

Zutarians act like Katara's romance with Aang is to the detriment of her character but somehow one with Zuko wouldn't just put her in nurturing position for an older man. I am not for Kataang but I don't think any of the show's characters would NOT put Katara in the position of a nurturer and giver. She gives too much as it is. Except perhaps Toph but Toph is twelve, confused and has parental issues. What I'm trying to ask is what does Katara gain from Zutara except acceptance.

What Katara Would Gain from Zutara

[Edited to add “Bato of the Water Tribe”! Thanks, @ adifferentcupofzutara!]

Katara would gain a partner who would help her with household duties without being asked:

Rather than someone who leaves the chores to her while he shows off for his fangirls.

Katara: Watching you show off for a bunch of girls does not sound like fun.
Aαng: Well, neither does carrying your basket.

She would gain a partner who shares parental responsibilities …

Katara: Aαng, don’t walk away from this.


Zuko: Let him go. He needs time to sort it out by himself.

And acts like a father:

Zuko: Keep in mind, these are dual swords. Two halves of a single weapon. Don’t think of them as separate, because they’re not. They’re just two different parts of the same whole.

Rather than someone who IS a parental responsibility …

And acts like her son.

Katara: What do you think, Aαng? Do I act like a mom?
Aαng: Well, I…
Katara: Stop rubbing your eye and speak clearly when you talk!

Katara: My goodness! That doesn’t sound like our Kuzon.

Katara: I’ve been training Aαng for a while now. He really responds well to a positive teaching experience. Lots of encouragement and praise. Kind words. If he’s doing something wrong, maybe a gentle nudge in the right direction.

She would gain a partner who respects her personal boundaries: 

Katara: What are you doing?!
Zuko: Keeping rocks from crushing you.
Katara: Okay, I’m not crushed. You can get off me now.

Zuko [retracts his arm so Katara can move away from him]: I’ll take that as a thank you.

 Rather than someone who transgresses them.

Katara: Aαng, I’m sorry but right now,  I’m just a little confused.


Katara: I just said that I was confused!

Someone who sees her as an ally:

Zuko: I can handle Azula.
Iroh: Not alone. You’ll need help.
Zuko: You’re right. Katara, how would you like to help me put Azula in her place?

And not a possession.

Actor Zuko: Wait.  I thought you were the Avatar’s girl.

Aαng: [nods] 

Someone who waits for the right time to talk:

Katara: You look terrible. 
Zuko: I waited out here all night.

Rather than pushing her:

Katara: Because we’re in the middle of a war and we have other things to worry about. This isn’t the right time.
Aαng:  Well, when IS the right time?

Someone who understands how much she needs her family to be there …

Katara: Dad.
Hakoda: Hi, Katara.
Katara: How are you here? What is going on?

And puts their needs over his:

Sokka: No, I’m staying. You guys go. You’ve been here long enough.
Suki: I’m not leaving without you, Sokka.
Zuko: I’m staying too.

Rather than someone who disappears when she depends on him …


Katara: He left.
Hakoda: What?
Katara: Aαng. He just took his glider and disappeared. He has this ridiculous notion that he has to save the world alone. That it’s all his responsibility.
Hakoda: Maybe that’s his way of being brave.
Katara: It’s not brave. It’s selfish and stupid. We could be helping him. And I know the world needs him, but doesn’t he know how much that we need him too? How could he just leave us behind?

And puts his needs over theirs.

Sokka: This is the map to our father! You had it the whole time!? How could you?

She would not only gain a partner who, unlike her canon love interest, sympathizes with the loss of her mother:

Katara: Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. They killed my mother and they could have done the same to your people.
Aαng:  Just because no one has seen an airbender doesn’t mean the Fire Nation killed them all. They probably escaped.
Katara: I know it’s hard to accept.
Aαng: You don’t understand, Katara. The only way to get to an airbender temple is on a flying bison, and I doubt the Fire Nation has any flying bison. Right, Appa?

Katara: I don’t?! How dare you! You have no idea what this war has put me through. Me personally. The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.



Zuko: I’m sorry. That’s something we have in common.

Katara: But, we were too late. When we got there, the man was gone.  And so was she.
Zuko: Your Mother was a brave woman.

Katara:  I know.

But who trusts her to deal with anger and pain in HER way …

Rather than pestering her to do things HIS way.

Aαng: Katara, you sound like Jet.

Aαng: Katara, you do have a choice. Forgiveness. 

Aαng: It’s okay, because I forgive you.  That give you any ideas?

Aαng: Let your anger out and then let it go. Forgive him.

Aαng: You did the right thing. Forgiveness is the first step you have to take to begin healing. 

Ironically, a partner who understands that some things are more important than romance!

Aαng: Katara is in danger! I have to go.

Guru Pathik: No, Aαng! By choosing attachment, you have locked the chakra! If you leave now you won’t be able to go into the Avatar State at all!

Zuko: Stop! This isn’t about you. This is about the Fire Nation.

But who would still die for her in a heartbeat …

Rather than risk her life (and everyone’s) to retain his moral purity.

Most of all, she would gain someone who sees her for who she is:

Rather than who he wants her to be.

And who doesn’t try to change her to make her better for him.

Nice to Meet You

Summary: An Sam x reader a/b/o fic. The reader moves to a new town and changes careers, but those aren’t the only major life changes she’s faced with. (An AU where both Sam and the reader work at a high school.)

Warning: a/b/o dynamics, knotting and claiming, smut

Word Count: 5,000ish

A/N: I had fun writing his one. Hope y’all enjoy it, too! Feedback appreciated!! XOXO

Originally posted by samwinchesterappreciation

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fuckboy » jjk » m

» request: nope

» genre: smutttttt

» author’s note: i was hoping to be able to get to 5k words, but unfortunately that didn’t happen :’) anyways, i still think this is the longest scenario i’ve written which i’m kind of proud of tbh ?? i really like this one and i hope you all do too! feel free to request any sort of au scenarios and i’ll be sure to write it !

» word count: 4.3k+

» warnings: fuckboy jungkook, sexting, phone sex, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex

**nsfw under the cut

You sigh to yourself as you collect the randomly discarded articles of Jimin’s clothing scattered through the house. You roll your eyes as you grasp a pair of his underwear, tossing them into the basket which has now grown heavy with the weight of his dirty laundry. “Seriously, Chim, is it that hard to pick up your clothes?” You ask as you walk into the living room, picking up an old t-shirt from the back of the couch; you stop in your tracks once you finally look up.

“Sorry, Y/N.” Jimin flashes you a sheepish smile, but you are no longer worried about him. Your eyes travel to the other person in the room, Jeon Jungkook; he leans casually against the wall, taking a sip from a bottle of water. “Have you met Jungkook?” Jimin asks you casually, flicking through the channels on the television as you glare at his friend.

“I don’t think so,” you say truthfully; you’ve never met Jeon Jungkook, but you’ve heard of him, many times. Most recently, his antics had been called to your attention by a close friend of yours, and to make a long, long story short: Jeon Jungkook is a fuckboy.

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anonymous asked:

Stiles as a professional cuddler who takes Derek on as a client? (With a side of mutual pining, Laura being a good older sister, and Noah being a good dad.)

*coughs* John…..John. (I AM SORRY, NONNIE. I CAN’T ABIDE BY CANON. I CANT.

I have to say, I really wish there were more fics out there that had this trope because I really, really love it. I think what I love most about it is because it’s all about Derek and his issues with trust and touch. I am very interested in the notion that Derek isn’t comfortable with people touching him after the fire because of what he went through with Kate but he is comfortable with paying someone to touch him because that leaves him in control. 

Laura is the one who suggests a professional cuddler because she knows her brother and Derek is either going to find himself very badly touch starved for years to come or he’s going to fall into another bad-touch sexual relationship out of some guilt ridden punishment trip. There is no in between with Derek. And so, she researches and finds Stiles. She likes him immediately because the people who leave reviews on his website all have one thing in common: that he loves to talk. Laura knows Derek isn’t much of a talker, especially these days, but she thinks it couldn’t hurt to have someone who isn’t afraid of communication, and possibly someone who might actually get Derek to talk back. Lord knows she’s tried to get Derek to talk; to her, to a therapist. Nothing has worked. But maybe this will. 

Derek is hesitant about Stiles - “what kind of name is Stiles anyway?” - but he has to admit, the idea of being held is….kind of nice. No sex. No complications. Just someone he pays to cuddle with him for an hour every week; a simple and smooth transaction that couldn’t possibly lead to anything bad. 

The problem first starts when he sees Stiles because, in one word, he’s gorgeous. Derek is kind of annoyed he doesn’t stop being gorgeous even when he half trips in the hallway and makes a lame cuddling joke, fishing a spoon out of his back pocket and with a truly impressive eyebrow waggle says, “wanna spoon?” Derek privately wonders if Stiles brought the spoon from home, if he opens with that joke with all his new clients, or if he stole the spoon from some coffee shop on the way over, struck by sudden inspiration. Derek is kind of frustrated when he finds himself hoping it’s the second one. 

Stiles is strangely anal about his job. He treats “cuddling procedures” like it’s BDSM, or something. He asks Derek at least thirty questions, only half of which Derek is able to answer without his cheeks colouring:

“Have you ever hired a professional cuddler before?” No.

“Being a werewolf - yes, I can tell you’re a werewolf, don’t look so surprised - would you prefer I didn’t wear any odours? Body spray, cologne, that sort of thing?” Clean. Just, uh, clean is good. 

Would you like me to make a playlist for us to cuddle to? Those are very popular.” No, that’s really not necessary.

How do you feel about versatile spooning options?” Oh. I, um….could you….I mean…..would you do the…..I just want….. “No problem, big guy.”

Their first session is a little awkward and he feels downright silly handing Stiles the money after, but he has to admit, he didn’t….dislike it. In fact, three hours later, he texts Stiles to book another session. By session four, Derek has gotten over his initial embarrassment and just learns to enjoy being held. Stiles talks about a lot of things, tracing his fingers over Derek’s arms, his face, his hands: he talks about why people need contact and why it’s not stupid or something to be made fun of; he talks about Star Wars and his dad; when he finds out Derek likes history, he spends their entire eighth session talking about the Trojan War - “I know it’s not real history. I was going to try and learn about an actual war for you but I got side tracked when I found out, like, half of The Iliad is about two dudes in love. How cool is that???” He then spends an extra forty minutes talking to Derek about queer censorship in history textbooks (somehow managing to work the history of the male circumcision in there). Derek wants to tell him the session is technically over, but for some reason (he’d really rather not confront) he stays quiet and lets Stiles’ voice wash over him, before falling asleep. (He later learns when Laura tried to pay him for the over-time, Stiles had blushed furiously and told her it was on him, before running out of the apartment and muttering something about “rules”.)

Session fifteen is when Derek realises Stiles is the most important person in his life, aside from Laura and Cora. And not only that, but it’s happening again: his heart is racing and his palms are sweating, and what’s worse? He’s daydreaming. Not many people know Derek is a daydreamer. Most people think he probably just sits and broods or occupies every waking hour either working out or reading. Even Laura teases him about it. Derek, however, is a big day dreamer. His romantic day dreams have changed over the years: when he first met Paige, he imagined her at his basket ball games and what prom night might be like; with Kate, he had silly fantasies of introducing her to his family, of teaching her about the full moon and opening up about his history. Derek knows day dreaming is dangerous. At least, for him. It’s always led to bad things. But he can’t help it, even now. 

Because with Stiles it’s different. 

When he day dreams about Stiles, he imagines holding his hand and what it might be like to bury his face in his neck, knowing Stiles would already know what that means because Stiles always knows. And not in some calculating, malicious way, like Kate. It’s a though Stiles files aspects of Derek’s life away like they are facts that might come in handy for a game of trivial pursuit. He plays out silly domestic fantasies in his head where he is trying to make them pancakes and Stiles starts a food war, covering them both in flour and jam. He imagines what it might be like to have Stiles hold him after sex and tell him he’s good, that he did good; imagines hearing Stiles say, “I’ll see you at home” and texting Derek lame jokes throughout the day until he does.   

When Stiles comes over for their 15th session, he’s a mess. He’s obviously been crying and Derek can’t tell why, but he smells strongly of roses. Stiles, like Derek, is pretty skilled at hiding his feelings but the moment he goes to lie down on the bed, he breaks. Derek doesn’t think he could stop crying, even if he wanted to, and even though he knows Stiles probably doesn’t want a client - because that’s what Derek is, a client - seeing him like this, he can’t help but lie down beside him and hold out his arms. Stiles shuffles towards him without even considering it, and Derek doesn’t  care he’s getting tears and snot all over his favourite Henley because the moment he brings a hand up and soothes it up and down Stiles’ back, Stiles melts into him. Utterly trusting. He says something about his mom. 

It’s the best and most painful feeling in the world and Derek is beyond grateful that Stiles isn’t a werewolf, can’t hear how hard his heart is beating or smell the jumble of emotions coursing through him. 

They lie like that for an hour, maybe, before Stiles starts to get restless. He tries apologising, offers Derek a session on the house, but Derek barely hears him, lost. Lost in a confusing bag of mixed emotions and instead of answering Stiles, says, “let’s order pizza”. 

The pizza comes within thirty minutes, and two hours later - half way through the third Harry Potter movie - Stiles leans in and kisses him. It lasts for twelve seconds - Derek doesn’t know why he counts - and when it’s over, Stiles pulls back, eyes wide, and yells something about Derek having the last slice of pizza, before running. Derek listens to him run all the way out of the apartment block and to his Jeep, lips tingling, heart sinking. 

They don’t see each other for four months. Stiles ignores all his phone calls and after a while, Derek gives up. He doesn’t stop day dreaming, though. He takes an almost masochistic pleasure in it - maybe it’s a form of self punishment, who knows. He doesn’t care if it doesn’t count as “growth”. He day dreams to the point that he isn’t sure if Stiles is a figment of his imagination when he shows up at his door soaking wet, like the ending of some cheesy romantic comedy. Derek would laugh at the bitter-sweetness of it; that is, until Stiles’ hands are on his face and he’s talking….and talking…..and talking. Talking about rules and professionalism and “never happened to me before”. He talks until Derek finds himself smiling. He talks until Derek finds his hands shaking, and finally, finally, until he can find it in him to put a finger to Stiles’ lips. 

“Shut up.”

Stiles does.

“If I asked you to kiss me again, would you want to?” 

Stiles swallows, takes a breath. “Depends, are you going to pay me for it?”

Derek raises an eyebrow for appearance sake, says, “only in more kisses”, and then blushes furiously because cheesy flirting is not a thing he does outside of his own head. Except, apparently now it is. And he plans to do much more of it, especially if it makes Stiles laugh like that again. Just….maybe not in public. God though, he loves hearing Stiles laugh. He wants to hear it all the time. Maybe he would risk the PDA. 

“Make a deal with me?” Stiles asks, closing the space between them, mapping out both of Derek’s eyebrows with a curious finger. He smiles, like he’s figured something out about him, just from that. “Buy me a milkshake every Saturday and let me hold your stupid hand during movies and you can have all the cuddling sessions you want for free.”

Derek pretends to consider this, takes Stiles’ free hand and playfully bites down. “Sounds like a good deal,” he whispers. 

Stiles grins. “Oh, I assure you, it is.” 

The Morning After

(This is an older request, thank you anon!)


The kitchen looked alien and strange to Harry. Perhaps because it looked like it had never been used or perhaps because Harry had never seen it in daylight before.

He glanced nervously back at the bedroom door, which he had moments before eased closed behind him trying not to make to much noise and wake the blond still curled up in the bed. Harry opened one cabinet after another dismayed to find most of them empty. One held dishware and another had half a shelf of cereals and sweetened fruity quick oats that only required hot water, the rest held nothing.

Everything he needed to make coffee was all left out on the counter, even a single green mug with the Slytherin crest on the side. Harry hesitantly dumped a scoop of coffee grounds in and started the machine, it was strange looking like it was going to explode any second, as many wizard devices did. It hissed at him in what he hoped was a making coffee sort of way and not seconds away from a kitchen full of shrapnel and coffee grounds sort of way.

Harry’s fingers tapped a nervous staccato on the fancy white marble counter. He had never spent the night before, neither had Draco. They hadn’t really talked about it. There was a lot they didn’t talk about. If it weren’t for the fact they both worked at the Ministry and ran into one another quite often this ‘relationship’ of theirs would have never made it past the first drunken one night stand.

He pulled opened the chill box, a blast of cooling charms washing over him as he examined the contents. There were at least six different takeout containers stacked to one side and Harry was certain some of them had to be going wiffy by now, even with cooling and preservation charms. There was also a load of fresh produce, carefully wrapped meats and a small basket of eggs.

On top of a bell pepper there was a note written in a curving elegant script. Harry unstuck it, a smile growing as he read it. The note was from Narcissa, along with all the fresh food apparently. She chided Draco for eating too much takeout and reminding him about their sunday brunch plans. He set the note on the counter and grabbed eggs, the bell pepper, onions, and mushrooms to make an omelet. Or omelets he corrected himself, feeling a tremor of anxiety as he remembered where he was.

He found a knife that likely had never been used and charmed it to start chopping everything. He washed the frying pan just in case it too had never been used. The butter in the pan warmed and melted as the cook top heated at the tap of Harry’s wand. He smiled a little ruefully, it figured Draco would have the best in wizarding tech, even in a kitchen he probably never used.

Harry didn’t really think as he cooked. His mind wandered to Ron and Hermione’s recent marriage, as it often did these days. They were so happy in their new home, with their new life. Meanwhile, to most of the world, Harry appeared to have been single for almost a year now after many years of rocky broken relationships. His friends knew he was seeing someone, they also knew it was an uncertain casual relationship, though neither Harry or his friends had said as much or so directly.

Harry folded one omelet, sliding it onto a plate and putting a stasis charm over it before starting the next. He just… wanted more. His relationship with Draco was good, wonderful even, but it was missing so many things, like proper dates, morning afters, talks about the future. He didn’t need promises of forever or even marriage just- his eyes drifted to Narcissa’s note- just a promise for next week or even tomorrow.

Behind him, the door clicked open but there were no following footsteps. Harry looked over his shoulder. Draco was standing in the doorway his hair mussed, wearing a pair of sleep pants and loose shirt made of modal as soft as silk. He was frozen in place, his eyes wide with shock. Harry felt his stomach sink and turned back to the stove, plating the second omelet mechanically.

He felt numb. The question hovered on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud; Do you want me to leave?

The floor creaked faintly.

Harry turned off the stove.

“Harry-”

Harry throat felt so dry it hurt but he managed a faint, “Yeah?”

Arms slid around his waist, pulling him back slightly as Draco pressed a soft kiss against the juncture of Harry’s neck and shoulder.

“You stayed,” Draco said softly, his voice sounding a little rough around the edges.

Harry shivered faintly, sliding his hands over Draco’s.

Draco pressed his chest to Harry’s back and Harry could feel his heart racing.

“That’s alright?” Harry asked leaning into Draco.

“I never thought… you would want to,” Draco said carefully.

Harry felt some of the tension leave him and a tentative hope take its place, “And if I wanted morning afters? And dates…” his voice dropped, “a future, together?”

Draco shivered.

Harry turned, first his head and then his whole body, taking Draco’s face in his hands. He wiped the first hint of a tear from the corner of Draco’s eye.

“Everything,” Draco said hoarsely, “you can have everything.”

Harry smiled and leaned forward, stealing a soft chaste kiss, “Just you. I just want you.”

Make up Marichat May, Day 12: Sleepover

Title: Good Morning
Word Count: 2,059

“Nope,” Chat Noir admits, trying to keep any disappointment from sneaking into his tone. He’d never slept over at someone’s house before. His father was far too protective to have him do something like that.  

“No? They’re fun,” Marinette says nonchalantly.

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anonymous asked:

Can i request the RFA+ minor duo going Victoria secret shopping with MC? And don't stress yourself too much over Requests love~ take all the time you need :)

~Oooooh, yes. LOL! Thank you so much for the request and thank you for the kind words. I appreciate it so much! 


◉ Yoosung 

  • He’s a stuttering and fumbling mess the entire time 
  • Doesn’t have the courage to touch anything 
  • Feels extremely awkward seeing all the other customers grabbing items, and thinks he should try to avert his gaze 
  • He TRIES to keep his eyes on the floor
  • Every time he looks around he is imagining you in the outfits 
    • “Yoosung, what do you think of this?” you hold up lingerie with pink frills 
  • He almost has a heart attack 
  • So many images in his mind 
    • “IT’S P-PERFECT”
    • Shh, you don’t have to yell” you laugh 
  • He can’t control the volume of his voice 
  • Talking to himself in his head, telling himself to clam down
  • He liked the area where theres beauty products and lotions/perfumes 
    • “Oh, this smells nice MC! Want me to get it for you?” 

◉ Jumin 

  • He’s rather un-phased
  • To be honest, he finds lingerie rather unnecessary
    • “Are you sure you want to buy this? I’m just going to be taking it off of you…”
    • “I’m not just here for lingerie, Jumin. I need new bras and panties as well,” you shake your head 
  • He’s very opinionated 
    • “That looks cheap.” “I don’t like that color.” 
  • He’s not doing it to be an ass, he’s just used to speaking his mind 
  • Wants you to look good, and tells you to get whatever you want
    • “Sweat pants?”
    • “They have really comfy ones…” you say shyly 
    • “You’re so cute,” he adds them to your basket 

◉ Zen 

  • He’s screaming internally 
    • YAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!
  • He’s READY for this 
  • At first he thinks you’re going to stick to the normal bra and panty sets
  • Maybe you’ll be adventurous and go for some lace 
  • But you hold up a lingerie set with cut outs and strings and bow and-
  • He almost has a nose bleed 
    • “B-Babe! Careful! Another guy might see!!!” 
  • He grabs it from your hands 
    • “There are only girls around right now, relax!” 
  • He wants to pay for it and drag you home as fast as possible 
  • He’s spacing out
  • Imagining coming home to you in the lingerie, you’re in the kitchen cooking for him 
    • ~~~Welcome home, Zenny!~~~
    • “ZEN!” 
  • His daydream is interrupted by your nudging his ribs 
    • “Let’s go, I paid already,” you laugh 
  • Gladly 

◉ Jaehee 

  • Finally!
  • She needed some new underwear as well 
  • You guys spend over an hour looking at everything 
  • And stocking up on your favorite lotions 
  • Jaehee has some extremely pretty bras 
  • You guys even got matching ones! 
  • She is sorting everything in your basket out when she pulls up a black silk nighty 
    • “Wh-What’s this?!” 
    • “Darn it! I…snuck it in. I was going to surprise you tonight…”
  • Her cheeks turned bright red 
    • “Oh! O-Okay!” 
  • She fumbled around to put everything on the counter 
  • Inside, she couldn’t help but be excited to see you wearing that later that night 

◉ Saeyoung 

  • He’s making jokes to cover his embarrassment 
    • “Do you think this would look good on me?” he hold up a bra to his chest 
    • “Can you be serious once in your life?” 
  • You both laugh 
  • He’s surprisingly good at telling you his opinion on what he wants to see you in ?
    • He’s actually picking things that are a little more risqué than you had ever thought he would be in to 
      • “What? I am a guy, after all…”
    • Asks if he can come into the changing room with you 
      • “No!”
      • “It was only a joke, calm down,” he pokes your cheek and waits patiently while you try a few items on 
    • Super giddy when you finally pay and head home 
      • “So if you are dressing up tonight…does that mean I can, too?”
      •  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

    ◉ V

    • Of course he is super calm about it 
    • Doesn’t like the perfume section though
    • The smells are too overwhelming for him 
    • He wishes he could help pick things out, but he can barely make out the colors of the fabrics 
    • He tries nonetheless 
    • Just smiling the whole time 
    • Choosing things by feel 
      • “This silk is nice, don’t you think? This would feel nice on you…”
    • He does get a blush on his cheeks every now and then and you’re glad he can’t see your staring as you hold back a giggle 
    • A couple times he ended up showing an item to a mannequin 
      • “…Do you not like it?” 
      • “V!…I’m over here…” -_-;;;

    ◉ Saeran 

    • No way!
      • You’re not dragging me into that damn store!!!!”
        • [2 hours later]
    • He stand with his arms crossed, grumbling in the store 
    • Silent as ever as you look through all of the items 
      • “Stop pouting and help me choose!”
      • “No.”
    • The only thing getting him through this is the promise of ice cream and pretzels from the food court 
    • He keeps scowling in response to your random laughs 
    • He doesn’t know, but his cheeks have been slightly pink since you walked in 
    • Eyes went wide when you picked up a particular black and pink lingerie set 
    • But he immediately looked away and pretended to not be interested 
    • Breathed a sigh of relief when you finally paid and started to head out 
      • “Ya know, you could have helped me out a bit more with choosing things back there…”
      • “Why do you need me anyway? You could have picked anything in there and it would look good on you”
    • You squeezed his hand at his response and he realized what he said 
      • “Oh, shut up,” he could feel you smiling at him, “come on. I’m starving. You said I get food.” 
    Called It

    A YouTuber AU SnowBaz fanfic for the Carry On Countdown

    Penelope

    Simon Snow’s first YouTube video is one of my favourites.  It’s as painfully awkward as any other YouTuber’s first video.  He sits up too straight in his chair, he smiles and laughs too mechanically, and the film quality itself is poor, with half of his words lost to shoddy editing. Yet despite all this, it’s adorable.

               And of course, it’s the origin of the biggest OTP on YouTube, SnowBaz.

               “Hi guys,” Simon waves at the camera, his hand going all pixelated at the movement.  “Welcome to the first video on my channel!”  He’s inserted a sound effect of people cheering.  I have to laugh.  It’s so damn cringe-worthy.

               He goes on for a few moments, trying to make jokes and jump-cuts that work, when finally, it’s everyone’s favourite part.

               “What are you doing, Snow?” comes a voice from off-camera.  My heart turns to mush.

               Baz.

               Simon’s new flatmate, or at least he was new at this point.

               “Making my first YouTube video,” Simon grins up at someone behind the camera.  “Come say hi!”

               “-bleep- no.”

               Even the censor sounds old, like it was stolen from the year 2007.

               Simon looks a bit panicked, like he’s realizing that he’ll have to edit out the swear word.  A door slams somewhere out of the shot.

               “That’s my new flatmate,” he tells us.  “His name is Baz.  He’s kind of a prat.”

               “Just you wait,” I whisper at my computer screen. “Just you wait.”

     ***

               Simon and Baz do not get along.  At all.

               That much is clear from the first video, but it become increasingly obvious as Simon posts more frequently.  He often films in the living room, which drives Baz insane.

               “Why don’t you film in your own room?” he says, audibly annoyed.

               “The lighting in there is terrible,” Simon protests.

               “Well, I’d like to be able to walk around my own flat, if you don’t mind.”

               “Go ahead, no one’s stopping you,” Simon shrugs. “Besides, the viewers keep saying they want to see you.”

               “Well, who wouldn’t?”

               Good old Baz.  Sarcastic and full of himself.  They don’t appear to realize it, but the two of them balance each other out perfectly.

               Little by little, Baz begins to make his mark on Simon’s channel.  At first we only hear him from off-screen, offering his two bits about nearly everything Simon has to say.  Many of his comments are admittedly quite mean and uncalled for, but Simon never edits them out.  Baz is the invisible heckler.  Viewers begin to latch onto this weird relationship of apparent hatred and, as YouTube viewers are wont to do, turn it into a new ship.  “SnowBaz” they call it, and before long the comment sections on all of Simon’s videos are full of things like “I ship it” and “OTP”.

               I try not to fall victim to this shipping trend myself.  It feels insensitive to me, shipping real live people that I’ve never even met like they’re objects of sorts.  But even I can’t deny that the two of them would be cute together.  Provided they stop hating each other.

               Then Baz appears onscreen for the first time.

               He’s on the couch in the background, facing away from the camera.  All we can see is long black hair.  He only moves when he’s shouting ridicule at Simon’s words.  Once he turns his head further to make himself heard, and we catch a glimpse of the light brown skin of his face.  This time the comments are all “is that Baz?” and “OMG BAZ”.

               After that he starts to appear more often. Sometimes he’s facing the screen, looking down at his phone or a book.  He’s tall, and his hair reaches his shoulders.  The expression on his face goes between concentration and a sneer, that latter of which he reserves for his heckling.  It doesn’t take long for people to start commenting on how attractive he is.  Still Simon leaves all the footage of Baz in his videos, not hiding a single rude comment from his viewers.

               Once, Simon tries to get Baz to join him for a “meet my flatmate” video.  Baz responds simply by flipping Simon off in the background, which Simon has to pixel out. He’s gotten better at editing at this point.

               Sometimes Simon posts daily vlogs on days when he does things that he considers exciting.  The things that Simon finds exciting are too cute for words.  They tend to be little events like going to a coffee shop, things that are almost mundane but for some reason they excite him. He does this thing where he dances when he’s excited.  He’ll bob his head cheerfully as he walks, glad to just be out.  He’s gone to the grocery store with Baz a few times in his vlogs.  Those videos are some of the best ones.  They bicker about everything from which kind of milk to get to who gets to carry the baskets.  Sometimes we can see Baz’s mouth quirk like he’s trying not to laugh, like all this bickering is just a game for him.  Of course, this sends the SnowBaz shippers into a frenzy, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Baz doesn’t hate Simon as much as he lets on.

               But there’s one video on Simon’s channel that is the absolute bread of life for anyone who ships the two of them.  Simon is doing a Q&A, and as usual Baz is sitting and reading in the background.

               “This question is from Twitter,” Simon says, reading off of his phone.  “They ask ‘Are you in love with anyone right now?’”

               And if you look closely, you can see Baz go rigid.

               “Well,” Simon leans in close to the camera, “I have been messaging with someone quite a lot.  I don’t know who the person is, but we’ve gotten really close and I’m starting to think -”

               “Could you keep it down, Snow,” Baz pipes up, his voice tight.  “I’m trying to read over here.”

               Simon doesn’t speak of it any further, but Baz sneaks glances at the back of Simon’s head more than once before the video is over. I don’t know how Simon could have not noticed it.  Certainly every single one of his viewers did, which is to say over a million people. Perhaps love is completely daft.

     ***

               When I arrive home from work on a particularly rainy day in October, I am delighted to open my computer and find that Simon is in the middle of a livestream.  Comments flow constantly from the sidebar and I settle in to join the party.  He’s in a different room this time, one with a neatly made bed on which he sits, and I gather that it’s his room.  It looks so clean, but I wonder if there’s a disaster hiding behind the camera.

               Simon leans towards us like he’s trying to read all of the comments and questions as they flood in.  He gets a lot of I love you’s and he grins in response, trying to return as many of them as possible.

               “I’ve got to go soon,” he tells us and I sigh in disappointment, “but I’ll answer a few more questions first.”  He’s quiet for a minute as all the viewers catch up with the stream.  “Here’s one: ‘Did you find out who was messaging you so much?’”  He pauses before answering.  “Funny you should ask, because yes, I did, and that’s a perfect segway into what I wanted to talk about.”  He shifts on his bed.  “I have a bit of an announcement -”

               His door opens behind him, and Baz in all his glory appears in it.

               Comments start flying in of “BAZ” and “OMG”

               “What are you doing?” Baz asks without a hint of a sneer in his voice.

               “Just filming a live show,” Simon tells him. He seems… nervous?

               “A live show, eh?”  Baz strolls over and – wonder of wonders – sits down on the bed next to Simon.  We’ve never seen him this close to the camera, and his eyes are this lovely mix of gray and green.

               We’ve also never seen him this close to Simon before.

               My heart kicks up a notch.  I’ve fallen down the slippery slope and now there’s no denying that I ship it completely.  I grab a pillow to hold to my chest and go into fangirl-mode, overanalysing every inch of their proximity.  With a click I maximize the screen, blocking the other comments from my view.  I want to see every pixel of this.

               “I was just going to make that little announcement,” Simon says, staring at his hands in his lap.

               “Ah,” Baz nods, apparently understanding.  “Go on, then.  Carry on, Simon.”

               Did he –

               Did he just call him Simon?

               He never calls him Simon!

               “I can’t do it if you’re here!” Simon protests.

               Baz gives a shrug.  “Then I’ll tell them.”

               He takes Simon by the collar and kisses him.  

               I scream into my pillow.

               Simon and Baz are kissing, right now, in front of millions of people.

               I can practically hear the collective aneurism that the fangirls are currently having.

               They’re still kissing, and Simon is grinning against Baz’s mouth.  It’s the most genuine smile he’s ever graced the internet with, and it’s not even for us.

               I’m tearing up, I’m so happy for them.

               Baz lets Simon go and turns to smirk at the camera. “That one’s for all you SnowBaz shippers out there.  Don’t think we don’t know.”  He winks. He fucking winks.

               And then he leaves.  

               Simon turns back to the camera, his cheeks red and his lips puffy.  He grins sheepishly.

               “Um, yeah,” he stammers, “that’s what I was gonna tell you about.”

               I tap the comment box.

               pennyforyourthoughts: Called it.

    Pocket Change | 1 | (M)

    word count: 7.5k

    genre: smut; supernatural AU + demon!yoongi

    pairing: reader/yoongi

    warning(s): mentions of domestic abuse

    special thanks to: @honeyheonie for being a wonderful beta  ♡

    masterlist

    Originally posted by sugaa

    Keep reading

    the world is quiet here

    A/N: for Alice. prompt: ‘clarke tells bellamy he makes her happy’

    This takes place in the weeks between 4.03 and 4.04.

    Clarke overhears that Bellamy has returned from his hunting trip, and she immediately drops everything to go find him.

    It could probably wait— it could definitely wait— but she’s been stressed the whole day. Seeing and talking to all the people she hasn’t put on the list has taken its toll. Knowing that she put herself on that list instead of one of them has made her increasingly distressed as the hours went by. Somehow, she just thinks if she catches a glimpse of Bellamy right now, she’ll be calmer. She won’t feel as alone. That’s all she needs— a glimpse. She’ll just drop by to say hello and then be on her way.

    That’s all she needs. Really.

    Clarke finds him helping Niylah and Raven in one of the storage rooms, where they’re busy preparing meat for storage. Bellamy has unloaded all the game from the day’s trip, and currently has his arms submerged up to the elbows in a bucket of sudsy water.

    He glances up when she enters. As always, she feels a little wave of comfort when his dark eyes find hers. 

    And all her plans to keep this to a ‘hello’ go out the window.

    Keep reading

    The Signs As Jack Handey Quotes
    • Aries: "After I die, wherever my spirit goes, I'm going to try to get back and visit my skeleton at least once a year, because, "Hey, old buddy, how's it going?""
    • Taurus: “The tiger can't change his spots. No, wait, he did! Good for him!”
    • Gemini: “Sometimes I wonder if I'm patriotic enough. Yes, I want to kill people, but on both sides.”
    • Cancer: “I hope if dogs ever take over the world, and they chose a king, they don’t just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas.”
    • Leo: "I wish outer-space guys would conquer Earth and make people their pets, because I'd like to have one of those little basket-beds with my name on it."
    • Virgo: "Just as bees will swarm about to protect their nest, so will I "swarm about" to protect my nest of chocolate eggs."
    • Libra: “I think a good novel would be where a bunch of men on a ship are looking for a whale. They look and look, but you know what? They never find him. And you know why they never find him? It doesn’t say. The book leaves it up to you, the reader, to decide. Then, at the very end, there’s a page you can lick and it tastes like Kool-Aid.”
    • Scorpio: "The first thing was, I learned to forgive myself. Then, I told myself, "Go ahead and do whatever you want, it's okay by me.""
    • Sagittarius: "You can't tell me that cowboys, when they're branding cattle, don't sort of "accidentally" brand each other every once in a while. It's their way of letting off stress."
    • Capricorn: "I guess the hard thing for a lot of people to accept is why God would allow me to go running through their yards, yelling and spinning around."
    • Aquarius: “We tend to scoff at the beliefs of the ancients. But we can’t scoff at them personally, to their faces, and this is what annoys me.”
    • Pisces: "Instead of putting a quarter under a kid's pillow, how about a pinecone? That way, he learns that "wishing" isn't going to save our national forests."
    The Only Exception (Part 4)

    Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?

    Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

    Word Count: 2,873

    Warnings: language, fluff, angst, sarcasm, hot firemen

    A/N: So many of you were right on. But what’s the fallout now? PS - I had a lot of writer’s block, so I don’t know how I feel about this, but I had to push forward with the story or I’d end up abandoning it.

    Part - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -

    Originally posted by upper-east-side-elite

    Keep reading

    [Miraculous Ladybug]: A Full Commitment’s What I’m Thinking Of

    idk man, i haven’t written the lovesquare in a while, and for some reason i wanted come crack-ish MiracuClass antics, so sue me

    Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

    Title: A Full Commitment’s What I’m Thinking Of

    Summary: Sometimes, when you’re friends are so obviously in love and they’re taking forever to get with the program, it’s time to take matters into your own hands. 

    In which Alya takes matchmaking to a whole new level, Nino tries to be the voice of reason, the entire class is incapable of keeping a secret, and Marinette and Adrien just try to have a decent picnic


    A Full Commitment’s What I’m Thinking Of


    “A class picnic?”

    Alya nodded as she scribbled a time and a location on the back of Marinette’s hand. “Yup. I figured it’d be fun. School year’s ending, the weather is beautiful, and exams are just about wrapped up. Thought it’d be a cool casual thing.”

    “You didn’t tell me you were planning this,” Marinette said. “I could’ve helped you!”

    “Oh, don’t even worried about it, girlie,” Alya assured. “You’ve been so busy with class rep stuff lately I just went and asked Nino for help. Worked out just fine, too. He’s been helping me handle music and food.”

    Marinette smiled. “This is so sweet! I can’t believe you did all this for everyone. Is everyone else coming?”

    “Oh yeah,” Alya insisted. “Everyone in class. Even Adrien.”

    Alya expected some blushing and stammering, but Marinette merely blinked at her. “Adrien’s going to be there?”

    “Of course! He was super excited when he found out you were coming.”

    Marinette lifted both of her brows in surprise. “He was?”

    Alya patted Marinette on the shoulder. “I would never lie to you. So yeah, you should definitely come. After school today, don’t forget.”

    “Ok cool!” Marinette nodded. “Do you wanna walk over together with Nino and — ”

    NO!” Alya shouted, hands darting out to grab Marinette’s shoulders. Marinette jumped in shock and leaned away from Alya’s frantic looking expression. Alya bit her lip and sighed out through her nose. “I-I mean….nah, i-it’s fine. I have to help Nino with….something after school anyway. Uh….I’ll meet you there a little afterwards.”

    “Um…okay,” Marinette said. “You sure you and Nino don’t need any — ”

    “Nope! No help!” Alya insisted, spinning Marinette around and marching her over to the locker room. “You just get your books together and meet us at the park. It’ll be a blast.”

    Keep reading

    The Best Revenge Plan (Jughead x Reader)

    Prompt: Heyyy. Could u do a rly angsty Jughead x Reader where the reader catches Archie (her bf) making out with Betty or something and she goes to Jughead, her best friend, and asks him to help her make a revenge plan? They start acting all lovey-dovey to make Archie jealous of what he lost and they make sure he finds them in ‘compromising situations’? I think it’d be really cute and funny. Thx!!!!

    A/N: I’m going to do that so the reader finds out about Archie and Miss Grundy instead of Jughead as she’s walking past the classroom. Hope you like it! (Sorry I’m not the best with angsty stuff ugh) Requests are welcome!

    Warnings: Archie x Reader (in the beginning), Cheating, Underage relationship (stupid Miss Grundy), Small amount of swearing,

    Masterlist

    The Best Revenge Plan (Jughead x Reader)

    You had a bad feeling in your gut. Your boyfriend of a few months had been canceling dates and avoiding both you and your best friend Jug.

    He was supposed to go on a roadtrip with Jug on July 4th but instead you and him sat in Pop’s trying to figure out why Archie canceled on the boy.

    “It doesn’t make sense, Jug. He told me yesterday that you guys were leaving early?” You sigh and frown at your melting milkshake.

    “I don’t know, (y/n)…”

    “Do you think he got into some sort of trouble?” You push the basket of fries towards your best friend. The thought of your boyfriend lying to both you and him made your appetite disappear.

    You glance out the window of Pop’s.

    Keep reading

    7/11/1804 (Alexander/Reader, Lin/Reader)

    Summary: You had expected that your first night in the role of Eliza would be an exciting one. You hadn’t expected a door to appear in your dressing room that would lead you over 200 years into the past. No, none of your Broadway friends had ever warned you about that.

    Note: Write-a-thon Day 3! This is loosely based on 11/22/63 by Stephen King, wherein the main character goes back in time to prevent JFK’s assassination. So you see where this is going. This is part 1 out of 2.

    Rating: G

    Word Count: 2651

    Keep reading

    Destined {Poe Dameron x Reader} Soulmate!AU

    Could you do a Poe x reader soulmate au where they can hear each other’s thoughts ? Maybe Poe likes to think really cheesy stuff just to make reader blush?

    A/N: I actually really enjoyed writing this but I’m having mixed feelings about how it turned out so feedback is certainly welcomed on this! I also feel like I may have strayed from the original ask a little but I hope you like it!

    Part Two


    Soulmate. That’s what they called it. The voice in your head. You could hear him all the time. Since the age of thirteen he was always a constant presence in your mind. Poe Dameron, that’s what the voice called himself. At first he was so loud and overbearing. The constant chatter of someone else consciousness made it a little hard for the first couple weeks to function properly. After a while you learned to tune him out, turning his presence from a roar to a quiet whisper.

    “Your lucky to have a soulmate.” your mother had told you. “Almost everyone does but could you imagine what it feels like for those who don’t? Knowing that there’s no one out there you’re destined to be with?”

    Soon you realized he could hear you too. You found yourselves talking to one another regularly and over the years it developed into a close friendship. Poe became your best friend, One that’s with you wherever you go. He knew you better than possibly even yourself, but what could you expect from someone who practically lives in your head.


    “You know, I was thinking.” Poe started

    “You’re always thinking.” you said picking a fruit off the stand in front of you. The market was always busy at this time of day. People of all sorts of species flocked around you moving from one stand to the next. 

    “Did you hear me?” he asked

    You turned your attention from the crowd back to the voice in your head. “Sorry, say it again.”

    “I was thinking that after all these years you’ve never asked me what I look like.”

    It had crossed your mind before but you never bothered to ask. You figured that regardless of what he looked like that wouldn’t change the fact that he’s your soulmate, and with him always in your mind it became easy to forget that the voice was an actual being living an actual life. “You’ve never asked me.” you said throwing his accusation back at him.

    You could hear the amusement in his tone “Maybe I want to be surprised.”

    “oh you’ll be surprised. I’m actually part lizard.” you teased, glancing around the fruit stand once more before moving off to the vegetable booth.

    Poe was silent for a moment but you could faintly hear his train of thought mulling over the possibility of you belonging to a lizard species. “Your Lying.” 

    “How do you know that?” You thought, tucking vegetables into your basket. An old woman sat behind the booth counter watching you closely.

    “I can feel it.”

    You raised your brows. So Poe is a physic now. “Oh yeah, What else can you feel?” 

    “If what I’m sensing is accurate,” he began “I would have to say you’re probably the most beautiful girl in the galaxy.”

    Warmth spread through your cheeks turning them a shade of pink. You smiled absently down at the food in your hand “Poe Dameron. That is the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” you placed the vegetable in your basket and looked over at the old woman expecting her to charge you for the food. You were shocked to find her already looking at you with a wide smile. She gestured to your blushed face and tapped lightly at the side of her head. She understood what was going on. You smiled back at her “Hes quite the character.” You said handing the credits in her direction. 

    “Your embarrassed, why?” Poe asked.

    “Some old lady just caught me blushing like an idiot.”

    “I made you blush? You must really like me!” he was teasing you.

    You rolled your eyes, trying to navigate your way out of the market “Careful, I might change my mind.”

    “No you couldn’t possibly. Were destined for each other.”

    You paused. Were you really destined for each other? Your connection says yes but most people you know have met their soulmate by now.

    “Whats wrong? I can hear you worrying.”

    “its- its nothing.” you continued walking.

    “Remember when I said I could feel you lying? I can feel that now.”

    The street in this part of town was just as crowded as the market place. You were never one for crowds so you weaved in and out of people tying to get through as quickly as possible. “I just want to meet you. The real you.”

    It was Poe’s turn to pause. “Soon.” He said. “Fate will bring us together.”

    That was always his excuse “I’m tired of waiting for-” You collided with a man, stopping your train of thought. Your basket nearly slipped from your grip but you caught a good hold just in time. “I’m so sorry!” You apologized, making sure you hadn’t hurt him when you slammed into him. 

    The smile he gave you was kind. “No problem ma’m. I should have been watching where I was going.” What a gentleman taking all the blame. 

    You smiled back at him awkwardly “Well I’ll just get going.” you said excusing yourself, and you both continued in your respected ways.

    “Sorry about that a girl just hit into me what were you saying?” Poe asked.

    You laughed at the irony. “Funny because I just ran into a guy. I don’t think he’s from around here. He’s dressed a little to warm for our weather.”

    “This girl looked so shaken when she hit me. She almost lost her basket when we crashed.”

    You slowed your pace. “A basket?” you said looking down at your own.

    “Yeah full of all kinds of food. She probably just came from this market down here.”

    Meet Me Inside - Part 2

    Part 1Masterlist Part 3

    Relationship: Bucky x Reader

    Summary: You really wanted your last year to go without a hitch so you could finally get your Masters degree. But then Professor Barnes walks in to your lecture. And he makes it a whole lot harder to focus.

    A/N: I got such a great response to the first chapter. It truly blew me away. Thank you so much. If anyone wants to create a fic header for the masterlist of this fic, I’d love you forever lol.

    Warnings: None really, like one swear word.

    Words: 1603

    Originally posted by uncensoredsideblog

    Waking up to 4 texts from Natasha wasn’t what you had expected. She had early morning lectures so it wasn’t a surprise but you hadn’t planned on having a discussion on what you should wear that particular morning.

    “ Are you seeing Professor Sexy McSexface today? “

    “ Okay I gotta admit, that’s not my finest work. But it’s 9am, sue me “

    “ You should totally wear something hot just fyi “

    “ I’m sure that’ll help him give you his ‘notes’ ;) ;) “

    You can’t help but laugh at her early morning ramblings. How she managed to function in the mornings was still a mystery to you but you guessed it had something to do with an entire pot of coffee. Rolling out of bed, you send a response.

    “ And why would I wear something hot? “

    “ Also that last one doesn’t even make sense, what is wrong with you? “

    But the thought began to look appealing. He’d shown no interest in you whatsoever yesterday. Yeah because he’s your professor, this isn’t some damn romcom you remind yourself. And yet… Here you were considering dressing up a bit as opposed to the usual “throw anything on” approach you had begun to take after being in university for so long.

    Your phone chimes.

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    I Appreciate You (Peter Parker) Part 2

    Summary: Peter finally has the chance to say I love you.

    Warnings: Slight swearing, very fluffy, very cute.

    Word Count: 1442

    Requested?: Yes 


             It’s been three weeks since you finally dropped the official I love you to Peter while you thought he was sleeping. It also has been three weeks where Peter has been driving himself crazy trying to figure out when and how to tell you that he is just as in love with you. Unbeknownst to you, he heard you open up to him and wants take the next step into your relationship.

            Since he dropped by for an impromptu sleepover, Peter has been extra attentive to you. The morning after he woke up extra early to grab you breakfast from your favorite diner, serving it with a side of morning kisses and cuddles. Luckily your parent(s) slipped out early for a work shift. Throughout the rest of the weekend Peter stuck by your side, slipping out for no more than three hours at a time to attend his Spider-Man duties. Even then your superhero seems reluctant to leave. Throughout the following weeks at school, whenever you are with Peter he always manages to find some way to keep touching you. Whether it be playing footsie during class, an arm around your shoulder during lunch, or even having his hand on the small of your back when you walk together. Peter Parker could not keep his webby hands to himself!

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    “Moments” (1/5) - Peter Parker x Reader

    Word Count: 3401

    Plot: The first time you met Peter Parker

    Warnings:why the f**k you lying♫….. (someone lies but that’s all I can think of that’s bad(?))

    Author’s Note: So this is the first part of a series I’m working on! Please let me know if you like!

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